Alabama

'Carnival in New Orleans, A Fantasy' matches city's free spirit

"Carnival in New Orleans, A Fantasy" is a freewheeling mash-up of photography, art, poetry and narrative.

For most people in the United States, Mardi Gras means New Orleans. Though we might grumble about that — after all, it was started here, and transplanted Mobilians even founded Comus, one of the Crescent City’s most important krewes — that’s just how it is. New Orleans has the French Quarter and a reputation for license and raunch that attracts the party-mad from all corners. Its celebration is bigger, louder, nastier and more celebrated in literature, song and film than that of our own dear burg. For the true Mardi Gras lover, however, it’s all good, no matter where it takes place. The fundamentals are the same.

Just how much this is so is demonstrated in a colorful, fun and funny new book, “Carnival in New Orleans, a Fantasy” (The Bard’s Press, $29.95), featuring text and poems by Maurice Le Gardeur, illustrations by Robert Seago, and even an accompanying CD with 16 songs by John Preble. These chaps are all native Louisianans with a passion for the history and lore of Mardi Gras. Le Gardeur is a Tulane grad and a lawyer with 37 years experience and a puckish sense of humor. Seago is a talented artist with a particular interest in watercolors, and Preble is the owner and curator of the Abita Mystery House in Abita Springs whose songwriting efforts stretch back 40 years.

It’s difficult to assess their lovable book, except to say it’s a hot mess featuring a loosely organized jumble of irreverent text, pretty good art, mediocre poetry, ebullient lyrics, famous recipes, a semi-bawdy limerick and wild photographs, all of which somehow work effectively together. Le Gardeur’s hilarious riffs frequently veer off topic to cover nutria, Texans (about whom he seems to have a particular thing), gumbo, Katrina, the Northshore, Jefferson Parish, religion, politics and sex. He’s also enamored of footnotes, and has sprinkled the 95-page book with dozens of them. And in case there’s any doubt as to this guy’s attention to detail, there are footnotes to the footnotes that he calls “toenotes” (and some toenotes even have “nailnotes”). For example, after writing that tourists should always be polite to the police, he footnotes, “I recommend that you never try to kiss or hug a cop (even of the opposite sex) unless the cop is off-duty and in the same condition as yourself. [T1] [Toenote 1] Even then because of leadership training I’d let the cop make the first move unless you have your own handcuffs.”

Seago’s watercolors depicting parades and maskers range from a little crude (the upraised hand of one reveler is oddly distorted) to impressive. His nocturnal image of two mounted maskers, one in yellow and one in green, softly lit while dark oak limbs and columned frame houses define the background, is perhaps the most arresting painting in the book. Many of his scenes could double for Mobile parades — floats, maskers, horses and enthusiastic crowds. His etchings, on the other hand, which accompany the recipes, are terrific and harken back to 19th-century imagery with their depictions of mule-drawn wagons, a seated black woman in a long dress and bandana, and a busy market scene. It’s hard to tell if these are meant to be historical or contemporary — New Orleans can be like that.

The smattering of color photographs, taken by Le Gardeur, depict the kind of unbuttoned seediness that attracts so many to New Orleans — a voluptuous blonde heading to the Quarter with her “bead magnets exposed,” a male reveler decked out like a female stripper, and a woman attired in a “naughty nun’s” habit. Litter and liquor are everywhere in evidence in these shots, and the smiles couldn’t be bigger.

Lastly, the music on the CD is just what you’d expect — raucous, energetic (sometimes frenetic) and repetitive, with lots of piano, brass and unpolished vocals by a variety of performers. In “At The Mardi Gras,” Dyane Mitchell intones, “I got a godson,/He’s got a shotgun/Rite on the route/He got barbecue/Wait for the krewe/And get ready to shout.” And in “Prettiest Girl On Mardi Gras,” Jerry Hess sings, “Some girls dream of a beach condo/Others want a playboy with plenty of dough/Some even want to be a movie star/I just want to be the prettiest girl on Mardi Gras.”

Mardi Gras’s all about cutting loose, of course, and that’s what “Carnival in New Orleans” conveys. In a big way. It’s the perfect book for any coffee table along the parade route in either city, and after it’s all over and the blues have descended, a great reminder of the mindless fun that will come round again like clockwork.

John Sledge edits the Press-Register’s Books page. He may be reached at the Press-Register, P.O. Box 2488, Mobile, AL 36652.